


Little Wooden Block

by Rayvynheart



Series: Kodachrome Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Sam Winchester is the best brother/friend anyone could have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayvynheart/pseuds/Rayvynheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam helps Castiel figure out exactly why the little knick-knack he bought at a truck stop could make him...feel...certain things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Wooden Block

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Charity_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/gifts).



Sam had just settled in at one of the long tables in the library. He’d been looking for a case. Nice and easy, salt and burn. He keeps his eyes out for any demonic or angelic omens. They’ll be avoiding those cases for the foreseeable future, if Sam has anything to say about the matter.

His phone buzzed next to him. It could really be only 3 or 4 people: Charlie, Jody or maybe Donna, Or Cas.

A small (very small, he reminds himself firmly) hopes it’s Jody. He’s developed some kind of schoolboy crush on the very capable (and very cute) sheriff, but he doesn’t think he’d ever act on it. He’s certain she thinks of him as a kid brother. _Always the kid brother, never the…_ he thinks, inanely.

It’s not Jody

**Sam-It’s Castiel. I’m outside. May I come in?**

Smiling, Sam gets up to go turn off the proximity alarms. He can’t help the surge of affection he feels pulsing in against his heart. That text is so like Cas-As if he needed to identify himself-and to ask permission to come by after he’s already here-That angel may be as old as time and have all of Pop culture at his fingertips, but deep down, he’s still-how does Dean say it? _a weird, nerdy guy_. And Sam realizes he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Disabling the alarm takes a few moments, but soon enough Sam has made his way up the stairs to let Cas in. He swings the bunker door open and sees the nerdy angel himself looking…well not all that nerdy, actually. He’s wearing the trenchcoat, of course, but he’s got a new tie, more fitted slacks, and some surprisingly cool leather boots. Dean’s definitely more the clothes-hound, but Sam can still appreciate that this is an improved Angel of the Lord standing on his front step.

_Wonder how Dean will react to this?_ he thinks. Dean has a hard enough time thinking straight ( _haha pun_ ) when Cas is in his usual “holy tax accountant” get up. This-well this might require some serious medical intervention to keep Dean upright.

“Come on in, Cas” Sam shuffles aside to let the Angel in. Out of habit he glances around to make sure Cas wasn’t tailed. As if Cas wouldn’t know, but whatever. It pays to be cautious.

The Angel squints around the bunker like he usually does. Again Sam feels that rush of warmth towards Cas. Sam doesn’t usually get physically affectionate with people-that’s definitely more of Dean’s MO, but he can’t help but reach out and clap Cas on the shoulder.

“It’s really good to see you. What brings you to the neighborhood?”

Did he imagine the tensing of Cas’ shoulders just then? He quickly removed his hand from the angel’s arm. The last thing he wants to do is make Cas feel uncomfortable.

“Come on, we can talk downstairs” Sam leads the way to the table he’d vacated when Cas showed up. Cas pulled out a chair across from Sam. He wasn’t really looking at Sam, but rather seemed focused on something in his pocket.

Sam clears his throat.

“What’s going on, Cas?”

“Where’s Dean?”

They speak at the same time.

“Um he’s actually out running, if you can believe it. Weird, I know.” Dean’s new healthy lifestyle included once daily runs. Sam actually suspects of all the new habits Dean’s trying to form, running might be the one that really helps. All those endorphins and serotonin can’t be a bad thing, right?

“Ah, I see.” Cas is silent after that.

“Uh-Okay Cas, I answered your question. Your turn. What’s up?”

“Sam, you really are a remarkable person. Do you understand that?”

“Umm…thanks?” Sam replied hesitantly. For the briefest of moments, he wonders if somehow he’s had it all wrong this entire time about which Winchester the Angel favored. What would he do if that was the case? What would Dean do? What would Dean do to him??

Before panic overcomes him completely, he swallows and says once again, “what’s going on?”

Cas pulls his hand out of his pocket abruptly and lays something on the table between them.

Sam raises his eyebrows, seeking permission to pick the object up. Cas nods, slightly, unable to fully meet Sam’s eyes.

What Sam sees doesn’t really do much to keep his earlier panic at bay. The object is a small, polished wooden block, maybe 2 inches by 2 inches. It’s got a red strip painted across it, and across the stripe is painted one word: Love.

“Ummmm…” Words fail Sam for a moment.

“I got this on a whim at a truck stop gift shop in Indiana. I think it’s just a souvenir, yet every time I touch it or look at it, I’m flooded by images and memories and…feelings about your brother.”

Relief washes over Sam like an ocean wave.

“Oh thank God” he mutters.

Cas turns his squinty gaze to Sam. “This is hardly something to give thanks to my Father for, Sam. I would have believed this to be cursed object if I weren’t so sure it isn’t.”

Sam turns the block over in his hand a few times before handing it back to the angel with a sympathetic smile. Cas takes it back wordlessly, but Sam sees the subtle uptick at the corner of his mouth when he looks down at the single word scrawled across the block.

“So, um, Cas, what do you…I mean you…Well, you see this souvenir, and you think of Dean.” He pauses, waiting for acknowledgement from the Angel.

“Any idea why that might be?”

“Well, I have spent some time thinking about this. The paint here is red, and I know Dean does like red as a color. He owns several red plaid shirts.”

Cas looks over at Sam hopefully. Sam just makes what he hopes is a ‘go on’ kind of a face. It must work, because after a second, Cas continues.

“And it’s made of wood. You two didn’t have a lot of opportunity to be outdoors having fun when you were younger, but in Dean’s dreams, he’s always near trees, and water, of course. So maybe that’s why?”

Sam looks thoughtful at this. He wouldn’t have guessed his brother had an affinity for the forest, but Cas is right; they didn’t have much of a chance to indulge in developing things like preferences for the great outdoors.

“Is that all, Cas?” he asks.

“Well, it’s also hard, and has very firm lines, but it’s also extremely smooth, almost silky, under my fingers. That also reminds me of your brother.”

Sam clears his throat at the unintentionally semi-pornographic imagery the Angel is currently conjuring. Shaking his head swiftly to clear **that** out, he says “Anything else?”

Castiel stares at the clock in his hand for a long time. Slowly he starts rubbing an index finger over the word, tracing the letters forwards and backwards.

“Love” he whispers.

Sam can’t keep the smile from nearly splitting his face in half, but he schools his expression—He really needs the Angel to figure this one out on his own.

“I love Dean.” The voice was still quiet.

“hmmm.” Sam makes some non-committal noise.

“But Sam!” Cas suddenly locks eyes with him ( _how does Dean deal with this all the time?_ ) “I love you, too.”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up.

“That’s great, Cas. But do you…um…Love us in the same way?”

Cas appears to be seriously considering the question.

“Well, I’m seldom distracted by the move of your muscles under your shirt when you are fighting, and sometimes I find myself starting at Dean’s mouth when he’s talking.” Cas glances over to Sam. “That doesn’t ever happen with you.”

“Okay, that's really good” Sam says with relief.

“And occasionally, when I was running out of grace and having to sleep, I’d have these dreams. About Dean. And I’d wake up and…”

Sam quickly cut in. “Great, great, yeah, I think it’s safe to say the love isn’t **quite** the same.”

Cas mulled this over.

“No, I suppose it isn’t. So what do I do, Sam?”

Sam sat back in his chair. He knows how Dean feels about Cas, even if Dean has never come out and said it. But it’s written all over his face when he looks at the Angel and all over the tense set of his shoulders when said Angel vacates the premises. Dean loves the Angel. He had 'bewitched' Dean, 'Body and Soul’ to quote a movie he and Dean agreed never to tell anyone they watched…and enjoyed.

“Well Cas, what if you just-I don’t know-told him?”

Cas looked at him with what could only be described as moderate to intense panic at the idea. Right.

“Okay, well, what if you told him without telling him? What if you gave him that,” Sam gestured to the block, “and tell him what you told me. That seeing it makes you think of him, and then all the reasons why. Dean’s a smart guy. He’ll understand what you are saying/not saying. Trust me.”

Cas looked simultaneously hopeful and terrified.

“But what if he doesn’t want it?”

Just then, the bunker door crashes open and Dean clatters down the stairs; before he’s halfway down he’s yelling “Sammy, I saw Cas’ car outside. Is he here?” His tone of voice rings with hope and pure joy.

Sam and Cas make eye contact across the table and Sam winks encouragingly.

“Yeah, Cas is here. He wants to talk to you. I’m…uh…going on a supply run.”

Honestly, Sam could have said he was going to light himself on fire for the attention the other two paid him.

Sammy's grin is wide and long lasting as he drives to town.

  


Two weeks later, Sam sees Dean pull something out of his pocket and smile at it sweetly. Sam doesn’t have to see it to know it’s a certain block of wood with a certain single word painted across it from a certain Angel.

Sam hopes they’ll be seeing a lot more of that Angel around.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Kodachrome picture by Ashley Lam from Kodachrome Notes.
> 
> This is a birthday gift for my dear friend Charity_Angel! Wish it was smuttier, but you know how that goes...


End file.
